Page 31 of The Replay

"Hookups," she clarifies. "Simple fun."

"Whatever you want to call them. Why not start now?"

My friends would take that as a sign of what she really wants, which is being away from me. It could give us peace.

"What—" she blinks— "With you?!"

Her lips part in surprise. She straightens and studies my face and all of the non-verbal signs I'm sending too, just in case. I cock my head and take another step to her. This way, she'll get as close a look as she can handle.

I narrow my eyes. "Oh, honeybee. Why would you think I'm proposing anything of the sort? We wouldn't be a straightforward hookup."

She stands up. It shortens the distance between us. Her chin comes up in defiance, aligning our eyes. Our lips.

"You said 'start now' and…" she licks her lip. "You're here. Looking at me like that."

If she thinks she's having an effect on me, I'll take advantage and play for a win.

I hold my place. Her arms, still crossed, create friction against my shirt. She must feel it. I pretend I don't.

"There would be nothing simple about us." I caress her face with the back of my hand. "You know how it was between us… and how it ended."

We came together like fireworks. It could be rough or sweet, but always intense. Hungry. In the beginning, I thought it was the power of finding someone who matched you so well in bed, it wrapped you up in all the right hormones until your body was taut with need. Ready to burst. But only a few weeks later, I learned the truth. Something special happens when you add your heart to the mix. When your feelings are involved and it hits you— the person you're with is important to you.

I know that now. It's why we fell in love despite knowing our relationship would end. She was always destined to go to England. She warned me from the start. Any single thought— every single cry inside of me— that wished for it to be different was senseless. We should have kept it light. Fun and casual for as long as it was meant to last. But we messed up, and I called her a year later still wound tight around my feelings for her. I'm a wiser man now, and those emotions are far from what I want.

It doesn't mean there's nothing to be done.

I make a pass of my thumb over the corner of her lips, my eyes fixed on hers. "Now, if you were to ask me for a hookup…"

Then I'd get to tell her no. That it's too late for us. Pride would cement itself in the underpinnings of who I am, that not only I resisted her for once, but I was the strongest one of us.

If she did, I'd know I wasn't the only one still feeling things we don't mean to feel.

She invades my space further, until our torsos touch. It's a dare, making herself occupy more space against me. It doesn't work in her favor. I come close enough that there's nothing but a breath of air between us.

She narrows her eyes. "We're not going to fuck, Dom."

I shake my head. I agree with her— we're not. Her body may still fit every dream I've ever had, with her elegant clothes and stilettos-every-day look, that I might have enjoyed taking off layer by layer in another lifetime, just so I could have her generous, lush curves uncovered and displayed front and center. And sure, I've learned that anger and chemistry mirror each other and share a heart rate. They both heighten my senses and bring heat to my blood. The chemistry between us is there.

But this is about taking her up on her dares. Getting her to break and ask. So I can be the one to tell her no.

Yep, still an asshole. Only because I need to check the chasm between us.

If I act slowly, she'll have the time to stop me. Would she stop me? Or would she crumble under the power of what lives between us, even after all this time?

A corner of my mouth curls up. I delight in small, unhurried movements. With firm hands, I make her turn and give me her back.

"What are you doing?" she asks, but she doesn't stop me.

"We won't fuck." I push forward, forcing her to angle down. "Tell me to step away any time you like."

Her arms straighten. Her hands splay wide as she braces against the desk. Our bodies end up lined up, my torso to her back, my hips against her ass.

"Dom."

I nuzzle her ear. "Even if I'm the best wrong decision you could make."

She still doesn't stop me— she curves her back. Her indulgent ass pushes against me. My response is automatic. Primal. I rub myself against her.